


Up From A Desolate Pit

by GloriaVictoria



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Fix-It, Idiots in Love, In Which Hermann Tries To Save His Boyfriend, M/M, Pining, Post Pacific Rim Uprising, Post-PRU, Rescue, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-21 07:43:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14280246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GloriaVictoria/pseuds/GloriaVictoria
Summary: After the attack on Tokyo, after the defeat of the Megakaiju and the closure of the Breach, Hermann Gottlieb holds the fragments of his dearest friend in his hands.Title from Psalms 40:2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks, as ever, to my friends at the K-Science Bros Discord server, for dealing with my evil ass.
> 
> ******* Like my work? Please consider supporting me with a Ko-fi! https://ko-fi.com/C0C5CWYM *******

Hermann had spent his entire morning in a plastic chair, waiting. His body ached, especially his leg, and as he palmed his paper cup, he tried his best to focus on the warmth leaching into his fingers instead. It helped alleviate the chill of this cold metal hallway, if nothing else. He hated this basement; hated the crates and boxes stacked against the walls, the heavy silence draped over him like a wet towel, the dank moisture clogging the air. An unhealthy, nasty place, he thought to himself, and then remembered that Newton had a mold allergy. He thought it incredibly inconsiderate of them to put him down here, but then Hermann supposed when you nearly obliterate mankind, you didn’t get to have little considerations like that.

Above him, he heard the loud clang of metal on metal and shivered as the sound rattled through his body. The Pan-Pacific Defense Corps had been working day and night to repair the damage caused by the Kaiju-Drone hybrids, and while Hermann admired their tenacity, he loathed the racket. He missed his old lab in the Hong Kong Shatterdome, where the loudest noise he encountered tended to be some late 90s thrash metal band blasting through the speakers of Newton’s computer.

After a long brittle scraping and a hiss, the elevator at the end of the hall opened to reveal Jake Pentecost, striding toward him in full Ranger attire—though Hermann noticed he had forgotten to button up his shirt all the way. Understandable; for God’s sake, it was nearly 5 am. Hermann wasn’t used to these hours, but he had not slept the night before. He could have waited, he supposed, but why delay the inevitable?

“Gottlieb.” Jake nodded, smiling in his genial way. It almost comforted Hermann.

“Ranger Pentecost—ahh, good morning.” Hermann rose slowly and grunted as his leg protested; it had fallen asleep without him noticing.

“Lambert told me you’ve been down here waiting to see Geiszler. I’m sorry it took so long for someone with clearance to assist you. I had to get the cadets assigned to work duties and training before breakfast. Feels weird, that being my job now.”

Hermann chuckled, trying to ignore the aching knots in his muscles. “Quite alright, Jake. I’m sure you have your hands full, it’s...” Hermann gripped the head of his cane tightly. “Rebuilding always takes time. I’m sure you’ll all do a splendid job.”

“I appreciate that.” Jake paused, his brows knitted together with concern. “Are you alright? You look...”

“Nervous?”

“Like you’re in pain. Now that you mention it though...”

“I’ll be fine, Jake. I just want...to get this over with. I’m quite nervous, to be perfectly honest. The last time I met Newton, he tried to strangle me.” Hermann’s hand went absentmindedly to his neck, where a number of purple bruises had blossomed, even above the high collar of his turtleneck. He still felt Newton’s fingers around his throat, so much stronger than he had realized.

“Understandable. Bastard gave you a thrashing.” Jake crossed his arms over his chest. Hermann swallowed hard. When had his throat become so dry?

“You have already spoken with him once, correct?”

“Yeah. Didn’t have much of use to say. ‘Blah, blah, blah, we’ll be back, we’ll kill you all’, that sort of thing.”

Hermann nodded. “Entirely unsurprising. He knows you as an enemy. He probably believes the Precursors can still see through his eyes. Luckily, without Drifting, they cannot truly control him.  _ You don’t know that,  _ he thought, but Jake nodded all the same. At least he looked like he knew what he was talking about.

“You really think you can get through to him?”

“Well, I—“

_ Hermann, they’re inside my head— _

“I certainly hope so. The wealth of knowledge he retained about the Kaiju and the Anteverse will be indispensable in the days ahead.”

“If we’re gonna bring the fight to them, we’ll need all the help we can get.” Jake clenched his fist and slapped it conclusively into his open palm. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be, Ranger Pentecost.” As Jake punched a code into the keypad on the wall,  Hermann took a breath and held it. When the door finally slid open, Newton’s gaze knocked it from his lungs.

“Hermann! My man!” Newton grinned wolfishly and Jake put a hand on Hermann’s shoulder.

“You want me to stay?” Hermann tightened his grip on his cane.

“No. I will do this alone.” He knew that Jake’s presence would shut Newton down immediately; at least this way, he had a chance of breaking through. Besides, he had accepted the responsibility of Newton’s care, no matter where it led him.

“I’ll be outside if you need me.” With that, Jake gave him a firm pat on the shoulder and walked away, leaving Hermann and whatever remained of Newton alone.

“So, Herm, how’s it goin’?” Newton’s voice cut through the viscous stillness between them. “You and your friends find all the bodies yet?” He chuckled cruelly and leaned back in his chair and Hermann felt the blood rise to his cheeks.

“We did, as a point of fact.” Hermann moved to the chair across from Newton and sat down. Upon closer inspection, he could see how exhaustion had taken Newton over. At some point, he had clearly struggled against the restraints on his arms and legs; he could see broken skin at his wrists and the fabric of his slacks bunched up around his ankles. His eyes, though eerily alert, were ringed in dark circles that almost looked like bruises, and though he smiled, Hermann could tell that even that small exertion gave him difficulty. He looked stretched thin, a bowstring about to snap.

“Newton, you must realize that this...” Hermann cleared his throat. “Your condition—“

“My condition?!” Newton let out another laugh, a hoarse bark that bounced off the insides of Hermann’s skull. “You mean how you’ve got me tied to a fuckin’ chair? That condition?!”

“...You know what I’m referring to, Newton.” A sudden quiet fell over the room again, and for a moment, Hermann  _ knew  _ he saw something change in Newton’s bloodshot eyes. “Newton.” His voice cracked around his name. “Please. Surely some part of you can hear me.” Newton stared into his eyes, and Hermann had to suppress a gasp as his bottom lip began to quiver.

“H-hermann...” Hermann rose to his feet as quickly as his leg allowed him and approached, kneeling to Newton’s eye level.

“Yes! Newton, it’s going to be alright. We’re going to help you beat this thing.” Hermann almost reached out to touch Newton’s scruffy cheek, but placed it on his shoulder instead. “We’ll find a way--“ Suddenly, Newton lurched forward and slammed his forehead into Hermann’s cheek, sending him sprawling backward onto the concrete floor. He cried out as the back of his skull bloomed with pain, and when he sat up, he felt a thin stream of blood trickle down his nose and splatter on his shirt.

“You dumbass!” Newton threw his head back and laughed. “Fell for it!” Newton continued to giggle as Hermann struggled to get up. His leg ached fiercely as he rose, forcing him to lean heavily on his cane. Newton’s laughter stopped at last, and his smile slowly vanished, leaving nothing but a look of cold, supernatural hatred in his eyes. “This is why you won’t survive. Any of you. You are weak.”

The corners of Hermann’s eyes stung, but he summoned up all the strength left in him to stand tall. “You have already found that hypothesis lacking twice before. You would do well not to make the mistake again.” Herman clenched the head of his cane until his knuckles went white. “As for me, I will not give up on you, Newton. Never. Consider it a promise.”

“Your fuckin’ funeral. Next time you touch me, I’ll crack your head open like an egg.”

“Goodbye, Newton.” Hermann turned and hobbled out the door, his entire body screaming at him to stop, stop,  _ stop _ . The sound of the door hissing shut behind him scraped against his ears like sandpaper. The corners of his eyes still burned, his vision had blurred, but he did not bother to blink the fog of tears away. He had hoped for too much, and the disappointment gutted him.

“...lieb? Dr. Gottlieb?” Jake touched his shoulder and Hermann swallowed hard, the taste of bile rising in the back of his throat. “You have...you’re bleeding.” Hermann quickly swiped his fingers across his eyes and turned, smiling thinly.

“Yes, I’m aware.” He answered, too sharply. “I’ll be fine. I believe it’s time I head back to the laboratory.”

“You sure you don’t want—“

“ _ Yes. _ ” Hermann heard himself hiss and bit his tongue. “I really must be on my way.” With that, Hermann called the elevator and walked in, bracing himself for the shuddering, groaning journey to the residential floor. As he moved wordlessly through the hall, he lost himself in replaying their conversation again and again in his mind. On another day he may have felt self-conscious, limping even more haphazardly than usual, his hair a mess and his nose bloodied, but not today.

He blindly swiped his keycard and shuffled inside, dropping it carelessly on the table beside the door before easing himself onto the bed. His hands folded limply over the head of his cane as he stared into the mirror across from him, stared into his swollen eyes and into the truth: that for all his intellect, for all the posturing he had done to Newton’s face, he had no idea how to help him. Hermann had no expertise in matters of the mind; hell, he could not even know conclusively what had happened to Newton in the first place. For all he knew, the damage...could be permanent.

_ For all he knew, the damage could be permanent. _

Hermann hadn’t yet allowed that thought to cross his mind until this moment, and it crept over him like a thousand needles across his flesh. What if Newton could not be saved? What if  _ he  _ could not save him?

He already knew the answer. If he could not, then he would find someone else. After all, he had a promise to keep.

* * *

 

Sunset in Shanghai. In her penthouse suite, Liwen Shao brushes her shower-damp hair, her body still aching and bruised. After everything that had happened, somehow life had slid back into place, and yet she felt out of place, as if a screw had wiggled loose and let something slip. She had refused all requests for interviews and public appearances, hadn’t even looked out the window for more than a passing glance. At one time she may have welcomed the fame such an event would have brought to Shao; now, things like that had lost their meaning. Being in a Jaeger herself, fighting alongside the rangers—those  _ children— _ had put a great deal into perspective.

She finishes brushing and braids her hair neatly, letting it fall between her shoulders with a wet  _ thud. _ She brushes her teeth, dims the lights, pulls back the sheets and realizes wryly how long it has been since she laid between them. Before she can crawl in, her telephone rings, and for a moment, she considers letting it go...

In these coming days, anything could happen. She answers.

“ _ Wǒ shì Shao. _ ” English. She corrects. “Yes, this is Shao. To whom am I speaking?” Liwen listens intently to the voice at the other line, tremulous and frenetic. Above all else, she hears fear and desperation.

“I understand. Yes, I...” She pauses, considering the wisdom of what she prepares to do. 

“Please, you need say no more. I will help you, Doctor Gottlieb.” The relief in his voice is palpable, he thanks her profusely. When the line goes dead, she moves to the window and stares out at the city: the broken buildings, the shattered roads, the trail of desolation and the light of hope flickering from windows and streetlamps. All this destruction, and at the heart of it laid her work, her vision.  _ Yes,  _ she thinks, _ I must do this.  _ She owes Gottlieb nothing, owes Geiszler even less, but to Shanghai and the people holding it together, she owes everything.

* * *

 

“I want to make something clear before we proceed with our partnership, Dr. Gottlieb. I came here to help Shao Industries and Shanghai, not Geiszler. Do you understand?” Liwen Shao sat across from Hermann, her legs crossed at the ankles and her fingers laced together in her lap. 

He nodded, turning his cane around in his hands nervously. To his embarrassment, he found it difficult to meet her gaze; its power cut him to his core.

“I understand completely, Ms. Shao. I know you harbor no good will toward Newt—Dr. Geiszler.” Hermann cleared his throat before continuing. “Nevertheless, I certainly hope you see the value in helping him come to his senses. His experiences drifting with the Precursors could have imparted an astronomical amount of information about our enemy. That, combined with his creative scientific mind—“

Liwen lifted her hand to stop him. “This isn’t a sales pitch, Dr. Gottlieb. I have already agreed to assist you.” Hermann flushed with embarrassment and chewed his lip as she sighed slowly. 

“Doctor...help me understand something. Geiszler strangled you, could have killed you, and yet when I tried to shoot him, you pushed him out of the way. Much of this could have been avoided, had you allowed me to take him down.”

Hermann felt his body tense as he Liwen’s gaze narrowed upon him. “The same thought has occurred to me, I assure you. You have to understand, Dr. Geiszler and I worked together extensively over the years. As a colleague, I value his insight and drive. I acted on instinct. I had not fully realized the depth to which the Precursors had taken control of his mind.”

Liwen pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and behind her ear as he spoke. “I sympathize. I did not realize that they two of you had so much history.” Hermann tried to read her tone, her expression...but such things had never been his forte _. _ “What exactly do you think I can do to help him?”

Hermann leaned forward, resting his weight on the head of his cane. “Do you think—would it be possible to give me access to Newton’s apartment and belongings? There may be clues there that lead us to the answers we seek. There’s also the matter of his...friend, Alice. He mentioned her before, but I didn’t get a chance to meet her. She may know more about what happened to Newton.”

Liwen smiled thinly. “Yes, I would like to meet this “Alice” as well. When he wasn’t stroking his  _ own  _ ego or attempting to stroke mine, he talked about very little else but her.”

Hermann grimaced. “I wish I could credit that behavior to the Precursor’s influence, but...that’s fairly normal for Newton.”

Liwen chuckled and rested her weight against the arm of her chair. “You  _ do  _ know him, don’t you? Better than most.”

“I shared a lab with him for quite some time, as I said. Several years. We—learned a great deal about one another.” Liwen said nothing for a while, as if meditating on what Hermann said. He shifted in his chair, unsure of what to say in this awkward moment. Finally, she spoke.

“Well, I can certainly have you transported to Shanghai as early as tomorrow morning. From there, we can examine his personal effects together. I’m sure he has retained a number of things that belong to me. Luckily, the PPDC has not yet seen fit to ransack it, and it has remained locked since the incident, just as Dr. Geiszler left it.

Hermann sighed in relief. “That’s excellent news.”

Liwen smiled, cocking an eyebrow ever-so-slightly upward. “To be honest, Dr. Geiszler, I find it odd that your friends at the PPDC  _ haven’t  _ helped you more in this matter. Aren’t they concerned about him?”

“Well, certainly they hope to acquire any information he has regarding the Precursors. In terms of his well-being, however, I...” Hermann sunk back into his chair. “Nobody here even knew Newton at the time of our collaboration. Those that did are no longer with us. Rangers Lambert and Pentecost have prioritized reconstruction and recruitment over dealing with Newton’s...situation, and given the circumstances, I cannot blame them. The security of the Rim and those that live in it supersedes the fate of a single man.”

“But not to you.” Liwen responded, without missing a beat. The corners of Hermann’s mouth twitched upward, for just a moment, and he looked away and out to the sea beyond the wide window of the meeting room.

“...No. Not to me.”

“I take it your relationship is far more complicated than you have led me to believe.” When Hermann looked back, Liwen was smiling, a real, genuine smile that put Hermann at ease for the first time in days. “You needn’t explain. It is neither my business nor my concern. My only objective is to find out how much he knew about my company and secure that information. I cannot allow something like this to happen again.”

“O-of course. Truly, I don’t know how to thank you, Miss Shao.” Liwen rose and Hermann followed suit, extending his hand to her. As she took it, shaking firmly, she leaned close and looked deeply into Hermann’s eyes.

“You can thank me...by making sure I never lay eyes on Geiszler again.” With that, she released Hermann’s hand and departed, her two bodyguards trailing closely behind. Once she finally disappeared around the corner, Hermann let out the breath he hadn’t remembered holding. He couldn’t help but feel relieved; now, he had a place to start, a touchstone from which to seek the truth of what happened to Newton in their years apart.

Yet something still gnawed at him, still churned and twisted inside his head as he made his way back to his quarters. It picked at him long after he had made his tea and read through the drift research he had collated, after he had eaten his dinner and taken his bath. As he laid in bed, staring into the void of his ceiling, the thought took form at last, tearing through him like a knife through his gut.

It was entirely probable that in all the world, only he cared about the fate of Newton Geiszler.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See chapter notes at end for translation of German. Please note that it is Google Translate German, and I take constructive criticism from fluent speakers.

The next morning, as promised, Shao sent her associates to whisk Hermann away to Newton’s Beijing apartment. Still bleary from sleep, they escorted him to the helipad at 6:30 am, long before the sun had begun to rise, and before he had even gotten a chance to brush his hair or have a cup of tea. Hermann tried his best to comb his hair into place with his fingers as he climbed into the helicopter and sat down, but his father’s genetics won out, and here and there a stray curl ruined his attempt at looking even remotely put together.

Hermann dreaded this trip, feared it. Over the past ten years, Newton and Hermann had spoken maybe once or twice, in both cases through short, terse emails that had surprised him with a marked lack of verbosity. Hermann had told himself that Newton probably didn’t have time to talk, working for a company as massive and notorious as Shao Industries. _No doubt planning the destruction of the entire human race requires a great deal of focus and forethought._

In a way, Hermann looked forward to learning more about this new, foreign Newton; it gave him the same kind of nervous excitement that a child might have opening a forbidden drawer in their parents’ bedroom. At the same time, after what he witnessed Newton do, after the things he said...he could not imagine what he would find there, and this scared him.  

Then there was the matter of the mysterious Alice. Newton had only briefly mentioned her, and yet Hermann could not stop thinking about her. What sort of woman would tolerate Newton’s strange behavior? _Perhaps he didn’t treat her badly._ Hermann felt the gnawing of jealousy at his stomach. _Perhaps he cared enough about her to protect her._ His hand traveled up to his tender neck. _Perhaps—perhaps—_

And what would he say to her when he arrived? _Why hello, yes, sorry to bother you, but I need to pilfer through your relationship because—oh no, it’s fine, Newton and I are colleagues, work friends..._ What was that term Newton had used?

Fuck buddies.

Yes, Hermann supposed that vulgar term said it all.

Hermann stared down at the ocean passing beneath them, watched the currents swirl and waves knock against each other. The helicopter’s spotlight cast an eerie glow on the water, and it sparkled like a million blinking eyes. He stared and stared, his exhausted mind mesmerized. He realized bitterly that somewhere on the other side of that vast gulf, someone was watching. They probably found all of this struggle amusing. As a child, he had dreamed of meeting extraterrestrial life, imagined how they would enlighten the world and partner with humanity to revolutionize life on Earth.

Clearly, he had watched too many space operas.

Thinking about those things had helped him get through the day—in space, he wouldn’t have to worry about the splintered bones and torn ligaments of his hopes and dreams. He wouldn’t have to worry about surrounding himself with numbers to shield himself from mockery. He dreamt of rocketing further and further into the sparkling void, of forging the equations that shot mankind across the galaxy, but life kept crashing down on him. Nowadays, he dreamt of drowning.

When he realized that he would see Newton at Shao Industries, Hermann had come up with all sorts of snide remarks and jibes to throw at him, partly out of frustration, but mostly to try and recover some of that familiar rhythm he had lost over their decade apart. All those plans flew out the window the moment Hermann laid eyes on him. In that moment, the relief of seeing a familiar face filled him like a desperate gasp of air after spending too long underwater. He had made such a silly fuss, but nothing had been quite so lonely as puttering around a silent laboratory, finding bits and pieces of the man who once stood beside him.

Loneliness. That should have given it away. Beneath the tinted sunglasses and pressed suit and shined shoes and the goddamn _collar chain_ —all of which should have, _would_ have warned Hermann that something had gone wrong, had he _opened his damn eyes—_ he saw a terrible loneliness in Newton’s eyes. Even at his lowest—and Hermann had been privy to some low moments in Newton’s life, simply by proximity—he had never looked so desolate, even as he grinned and swaggered about.

He should have said something. He should have asked. He should have _thought._ Hermann had never been good at quelling his own excitement, and as such, he preferred to remain calm. It compromised his ability to think through situations logically. Of all the people in the world, only Newton knew how to push him over that edge, not so much by pushing the right buttons as by slamming his hands on the keyboard. Hermann felt ashamed that he hadn’t managed to pull himself together long enough to realize that Newton needed help.

Hermann closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the leather headrest of the chair, shivering when the cold fabric touched his tender neck. He tried to take in all the sounds and smells and sensations around him—the humming of the engine, the fabric of his slacks beneath his fingers. Someone was chewing gum. Gasoline, hydrocarbons, cycloalkanes…

“Approaching the helipad now, Doctor.” Hermann opened his eyes and watched the city of Shanghai grow larger and brighter below. Ahead, he could see the damaged Shao skyscraper, the gouges carved into the concrete by Obsidian Fury, the remains of overturned cars and crumbled buildings. They passed all of this, heading instead to another structure behind it. Though certainly shorter, it still managed to impose itself upon the skyline. As they positioned themselves at last over the helipad and descended, Hermann spotted Liwen Shao standing alone in a thick coat, holding two ceramic coffee cups in her hands. One of the Shao attendants leaned forward once they touched down and opened the door for Hermann, who nodded and carefully made his way out.

“Good morning, Ms. Shao. I hadn’t expected you to meet me in person.” Liwen smiled and handed him a cup.

“I thought you might need something to drink after your long ride. I apologize for picking you up so early.”

“It’s quite alright, really. Waiting around would not have done me much good in any case. Thank you.” Hermann put the cup to his lips and sipped: green tea with honey and something else. Ginseng? For God’s sake, could he focus on _anything?_

“If you follow me, I’ll take you to Geiszler’s apartment.”

“Of course. Lead the way.” Hermann followed Liwen into the roof elevator. He recognized it as the same make and model as the one where he and Newton had fought their escorts together—

_FOCUS._

He swallowed the lump rising in his throat as the doors opened onto the fourteenth floor. Liwen moved quickly, leading him past several doors to the end of the hall and pulling a keycard from her pocket. “Alright.” Liwen looked back at Hermann. “Ready?”

“Why is everyone asking me that lately?”

She smiled reassuringly.“Probably because they’re concerned for you.” Before he had time to respond, Liwen swiped the card and punched a code into a small keypad with her perfectly manicured fingers. _Almost perfect;_ Hermann noticed a number of chips and cracks in the red lacquer. She hadn’t had them repaired. Hermann smiled at that. _Not quite as vain as she appears._

The door clicked open and Hermann felt immediately anxious as the apartment came into view. _Too clean._ He thought to himself. He’d only seldomly seen the inside of Newton’s Shatterdome quarters (in the dark, on his back, usually with his eyes busy with something else). His lab space, however, always looked as if a miniature typhoon had struck: papers always strewn about, half-empty cans of coffee, gum stuck to the table…

Newton didn’t live here. He couldn’t. He’d go crazy. _But then...isn’t that what happened?_

Hermann entered the apartment tentatively and threw his gaze around the room. He had no idea where to begin looking; everything looked so foreign, so generic. None of it gave Hermann the impression that Newton interacted with any of it. He passed through the den, eyes passing over the couch, the plasma screen television, the bland artwork on the walls. A pile of papers on the coffee table caught his eye, and he took a seat to rifle through them. Most of it looked like research, blueprints with notes scribbled into the margins in a language Hermann did not recognize, but knew must belong to the Precursors. In a folder underneath, Hermann found a series of monetary figures in tables and charts. These Liwen quickly took from his hand.

“My financials.” Liwen frowned as she flipped through the dossier. “Bastard had the nerve to leave them laying out in plain sight.”

“Newton has never been known for his subtlety.” Hermann grimaced and gathered up the files, sliding them carefully into his bag to take home for study. He turned and headed toward the kitchen, absentmindedly opening and shutting drawers, cabinets. The refrigerator stood nearly empty, save for some condiments and a bottle of Jägermeister— _Christ, Newton, how are you still breathing?_ A layer of dust had settled over the plates and bowls, the countertop was clean. “Nothing here.”

“Then all that remains is the bedroom.” Hermann felt his color rise. _Stop it, now. Remember what you came here to do._ Hermann carefully climbed the stairs, his legs like lead weights. As he ascended, he heard what sounded like...bubbling, the soft hissing of liquid. Had Newton left the water running?

“Well, I suppose we shall have to find Alice later, won’t we? She seems to have vanished.” Liwen heard Hermann’s cane clatter to the floor from behind her and headed quickly after him. “Dr. Gottlieb?” Hermann stood petrified, his face illuminated by a sickly green glow, and as she followed his gaze, she swallowed the yelp of surprise that shot to her lips.

“She’s here.” Hermann’s eyes fixed themselves on the shock of red handwriting atop the container, Newton’s handwriting. _Alice._ The corners of Hermann’s mouth twitched downward. “We meet at last.” He hadn’t meant to say that aloud, but at this point he didn’t care.

“I will call an extraction team to have this...thing removed.” Hermann barely heard her. He reached down to retrieve his cane, and his hand brushed against cold metal.

“He drifted with her.” He said to nobody in particular, to himself, turning the headset around in his hands. “Good God. How many times?” Hermann moved to the computer installed beside Alice’s tank and attempted to sign in. Luckily, Newton hadn’t anticipated intruders. It only took a moment to guess his password, though later he would realize that he hadn’t guessed at all. He had known.

If the apartment had surprised him with its cleanliness, at least the desktop looked like Newton’s. Folder after folder filled the entire screen, all with names like “thispieceofshitbetterwork” and “fuckingchrist”. How he knew where he stored anything was Hermann’s guess. He opened up the toolbar and quickly found the Drift program, also password protected.

 _Alice in W-O-N-D-E-R-L-A-N-D._ Hermann punched in the letters slowly, nearly choking when the password went through. Just like Newton to make all this a big joke, even as a puppet on the Precursor’s strings.

“Extraction teams will arrive within the hour.” Liwen slid her phone into her pocket, moving to peek over his shoulder. “The Drift interface. What are you looking for?”

“I’m not...” _Recorded Drift instances: 730._ Hermann’s hands shook over the keyboard.

“Oh, my God.” Liwen whispered. “No wonder his mind suffered so much damage.” Hermann didn’t move. “Dr. Gottlieb?”

Newton drifted with a Kaiju brain _seven hundred and thirty times._ That number seemed impossible—terrifying, unheard of. Even the most seasoned Jaeger pilots rarely drifted more than 200 times, including simulations, and that was with _another human._

“I, ah...I need this data.” He felt frantically around his pockets for the thumb drive he had packed with him.

“No need. I’ll have the data compressed and sent to your lab.” Hermann nodded numbly. Still more to see, though his eyes had ceased to focus and his body moved of its own volition. He examined the desk: two drawers, the top mostly empty. Some gum wrappers, pencils, a decal of Shao Industries’ logo. The bottom drawer contained two things: a battered shoebox covered in band stickers, and a picture frame. He took both of these, sliding the frame into the box, and put them under his arm just as the extraction team began filtering in through the open door.

Liwen immediately took to ordering them about in Mandarin, and Hermann got out of her way, settling himself on a small chair in the corner of Newton’s living room. He held the shoebox on his lap, running his thumb over the edge of the lid. He didn’t have to look inside. Hermann already knew what Newton had hidden there. He knew because he had a box just like it in his closet, on the top shelf beside his box of winter sweaters.

Hermann watched the crew of scientists and engineers wheel Alice out of the apartment, box up Newton’s computer and carry it away. Liwen stood with her arms folded across her chest, watching the whole operation unfold, and when they had finished, she moved toward him.

“You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.” Hermann tightened his grip on the box.

“I believe I’m finished here.”

* * *

 

Liwen invited Hermann to eat breakfast in her penthouse, and Hermann agreed. By now, the sun had fully risen, and from Liwen’s enormous windows Hermann could see the swath of destruction winding their way across the area. Smoke still rose from several buildings, and construction crews milled about tirelessly like ants repairing their hill. He stood at the window and looked upon Newton’s works. _Nothing beside remains…_

“Dr. Gottlieb?” Hermann turned at the sound of Liwen’s voice. “Breakfast arrived five minutes ago.”

“Forgive me. Just a moment.” Hermann hobbled to the table and sat, audibly sighing in relief when he noticed a full carafe of coffee accompanying their meal. He poured himself a cup and drank it black. “You know, before Drifting with Newton, I hated it.”

“Hated what?”

“Oh...forgive me. Coffee. He drinks this stuff by the gallon.” Hermann laughed weakly, but when he looked up at Liwen, she wasn’t smiling. “Is everything alright?”

“Truth be told, I was about to ask you that same question.”

“I’m fine, just very tired and—“

“You’re lying.” Hermann went silent, looked down at his plate and tried to lose himself in his _jiānbĭng_.

“...Ms. Shao, if I were to try to explain—“

“Then try.” Liwen answered sternly, and Hermann took a shuddering breath. “You don’t have to tell me your life’s story. I just want to know what happened in Geiszler’s apartment that turned you to stone.” With that, she took a bite of her breakfast and waited, her eyes never leaving him.

“...You saw the data on the screen. Newton drifted with that Kaiju brain _730 times_. As someone who works with Drift and Jaeger technology, I don’t think I need to spell out those implications to you.”

“Drifting always comes with the risk of brain damage, and always rewrites neural pathways as a result of the connection. To do so with a Kaiju brain, something so foreign and caustic, could cause irreparable harm.”

“Yes. And—“ Hermann paused, trying to wrap his mouth around the words he needed to say.

“But I also mean the implications of the act itself.”

“Of that, I am less certain. What possessed him to Drift so often with that brain?”

“You know that Newton and I drifted with a Kaiju brain?” Liwen nodded.

“Of course. You ascertained the location of the breach and the Precursor’s intents, and helped end the war.”

“Yes. What you may not know is that _before_ we did this, Newton drifted with a fragment of Kaiju brain himself. Alone.” _Because I wasn’t there to stop him._ “We had plenty of information about our Drift together, but when he conducted his experiment, he used nothing but a Dictophone to record the occasion. He built his Drift interface from pieces of junk laying around the Shatterdome. He didn’t even have recordings of his own brainwaves to analyze when the deed was done.”

“Incredible.” Liwen sipped her tea and leaned forward. “Go on.”

“I fear...whatever happened to him in that solo Drift experience started him on this path to annihilation. The trouble with my theory lies in the lack of data to corroborate it.” Liwen took another bite and chewed thoughtfully, gazing out the window. Hermann followed suit, his gnawing hunger finally overtaking his desire to bear out this conundrum. Liwen patiently waited to ask more questions until he had eaten his fill.

“I can tell you this much, Dr. Gottlieb: when Newton Geiszler arrived here, he was not a monster. He was a rowdy, irreverent fool, but not the creature you have tied up in Moyulan.”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps, as I personally suspect, the Precursor’s hold on him had not fully maturated until further exposure to Kaiju brain activity. At that stage, they likely could not _force_ him to Drift, so he must have made that choice himself.”

“Are you suggesting that at some point, he chose to Drift with that Kaiju brain...what, for fun?”

“For science. I don’t think Newton knows how to conduct an experiment that doesn’t take personal risk into account.” The two of them sat silently, drinking their coffee and tea, each taking in what the other had said. Hermann resented all of this, he wanted to go home, wanted to work, to save him. He feared that every moment wasted would send Newton closer and closer to oblivion. At one time, he hadn’t been so impatient, but that part of Newton seemed to have taken root inside him, just like his taste for the acrid burn of coffee.

“I take it you’ll be heading back to Moyulan soon.”

“Yes.” Hermann sat his cup down decisively. “Time is of the essence. I need to run so many tests, try to ascertain the nature of this infection. I need to run EEG scans, brain activity studies...” Liwen reached over the table and touched Hermann’s hand; only then did he realize he had been incessantly tapping his fingertips against it.

“You need to rest. You will not serve Geiszler by working yourself to the point of exhaustion.” Hermann’s shoulders slumped in defeat.

“It won’t do me much good. Either sleep eludes me entirely, or I dream of...” _Of monsters, of hands around my neck, of arms around my neck, of lips on my..._

“They make medicine for that, you know.” Hermann forced a smile.

“Not for this.”

* * *

 Somehow, despite his misgivings, Hermann slept.

* * *

_Hermann._

Hermann’s eyelids fluttered as he felt a puff of warm air on his lips.

_Want to see a magic trick, Hermann? I’m gonna turn that frown upside down._

Hermann’s eyes snapped open, his mouth dry and his forehead damp with sweat. Another dream. He closed his eyes, covered his face with his hands, and wept.

* * *

No helicopter ride back to Moyulan. Liwen accompanied him, and as such, they flew in style. Hermann and Liwen sat across from each other in her private jet. Thankfully, she had chosen to sleep on the way, her ears plugged with headphones and her form wrapped in a warm blanket printed with tiny cats in repose. He found it remarkable that such a woman allowed herself this kind of vulnerability in front of him. He wondered what he had done to earn her trust in this way. Perhaps she didn’t see him as a threat. Or, perhaps she was so tired, she didn’t have the will to care.

A part of himself he didn’t listen to for too long thought her cute.

Beside him, he had placed his overnight bag and Newton’s old shoebox. He lifted the lid and slid his fingers inside; they had been itching to search through its contents since he found it. He fished out an envelope, yellowed and stamped with postage from 2013. Newton’s MIT address, written in his hand. Hermann ran his hand over the wrinkled manila before pulling the letter forth and unfolding it carefully, like an archaeologist handling a rare parchment.

_Dr. Geiszler,_

_I meant to write you sooner; my sincerest apologies. I know you wanted feedback on your most recent dissertation chapter. Let me first begin by saying this: I find myself continually fascinated by your ability to translate this research of yours into a living, breathing thing. So often, research tends to wither into a ceaseless drone by the second chapter. You know how to make the figures sing._

He put the letter back in the envelope and smiled a bit at the childish excitement of his younger self. To be fair, he had been—what, 24 at the time? They’d been writing each other for years at this point. He’d built Newton up so much in his mind. Looking back now, more than twenty years on, he wished...

He wished he had listened to himself.

Another letter, this one later:

_Dr. Geiszler,_

_I enjoyed your letter immensely. Never think that you bore me; on the contrary, I find myself feeling terribly lonely here, writing code for robots with no one to simply enjoy my time with. Nobody here can relate to me the way you do. Nobody understands—_

This letter slid out of Hermann’s hands and onto the floor.

He finally put the shoebox on his lap, removed the lid and shuffled through the rest of the letters. Most of them were the same: letters from Hermann to Newton from years ago. The fact that Newton had chosen these to take with him to Shanghai simultaneously stung him and gave him hope that something remained of him in his basement prison. Between these, however, he found several loose sheets of paper filled with Newton’s chicken scratch. Some phrases had been marked out, some were half-finished, none of them seemed particularly salient. He pulled these forth and perched his glasses on his nose.

_Dear Hermann—fuck...Hey, Hermann—no...Hermann, how’s it going buddy—nope_

_TASK: Secure Shao financials 2035/10 How do I talk to you? How did I talk to you? – debug failsafe codes--_

_Hermann...Hermann, I miss you—would he believe that? TASK: Inject samples with reagent, record results -- Hermann, I’m sorry. Hermann, forgive me._

 

_Hermann...help me._

 

Hermann felt his entire body go cold as he realized what exactly he had found. This map of Newton’s madness, while horrifying to examine, proved conclusively that Newton had tried to fight. He had tried to reach out to Hermann. He made a mental note to check Newton’s email when he arrived home.

The rest of the letters remained stowed away, but before he put the box back into the chair beside him, he fished out the picture frame shoved into the side. He hadn’t taken the time to look at it before, but he knew what he’d find. It was that photo, taken ten years ago. Both of them still sporting bloody noses and busted ocular capillaries. Both of them exhausted, grinning out of sheer disbelief and joy and shock. It was the only photo they had of each other, alone together. Hermann had worn his photograph out from all the times he had removed it from the frame, ran his thumb over it, turned it over in his hands. This copy had been barely touched, the edges still crisp and the color true.

_Me and Herm, Ultimate Badasses, 2025_

Hermann snorted at Newton’s subtitle. So like him.

 _This is why you won’t survive._ The Precursors’ words crept back into his mind.

 _No,_ Hermann thought, pursing his lips and placing the photograph in his breast pocket, close to his heart. _This is why I will fight._

* * *

 

By the time Liwen and Hermann arrived in Moyulan, the PPDC had already cleaned up a good portion of the rubble and ruin left behind by the Kaiju-Drones. The last of the tow barges, full of concrete and rubber and steel, prepared to depart from the docks as Liwen’s jet alighted upon the runway. Liwen had since woken up to apply her makeup and tidy her hair, and Hermann watched the transformation in awe.

“What?” Liwen smiled when she noticed his attention.

“Nothing, just...you look like a different person.”

“I am. We all choose masks to protect ourselves, Dr. Gottlieb. You have one too.” He didn’t like thinking about what hid behind his mask nowadays: some of himself, of Newton, of the creatures he saw in the Drift, all shaken together into a bitter-tasting cocktail that gave one hell of a hangover.

Hermann let Liwen into the Shatterdome, through the busy halls and Jaeger garage to the freight elevator, all the while attracting curious stares. He supposed it must be strange to see them together, after all. They made an odd pair: a glamorous, well-dressed genius and an awkward, gangly cripple with the fashion sense of an old man. They took the lift down, down into the bowels of the Dome, toward Newton's personal prison.

"Where do we begin?" Liwen asked, looking to Hermann. He folded his hands over the head of his cane and sighed, flipping through the catalogue of plans in his mind.

"First, I must gather data about Newton's condition. That means brain scans, EEGs, psychological evaluation...lots of preliminary work."

"I find it hard to believe he will subject to your requests." Hermann chuckled darkly.

"I had that thought myself, but I have a plan. I’m going to threaten him with sedation." Liwen raised an eyebrow.

"Threaten him?"

"Newton is the kind of man who would prefer to have his eyes wide open through every experience, every sensation, no matter how excruciating and unpleasant. I have also inferred that the part of his psyche still held by the Precursors would also prefer not to sacrifice the opportunity for intelligence gathering this will provide." Hermann sighed deeply, shifting his weight off his sore leg. God, he desperately needed a hot bath.

"You realize that on the off chance they can still see through his eyes..."

"I want to take that chance. I don't want to treat him like a...like a specimen." Liwen smiled and patted his back.

"What a tender heart you have."

Hermann smiled wryly. "Nonsense. I simply want to afford Newton the respect he deserves."

Liwen chuckled. "Of course."

The pair arrived on the basement floor, the suddenness of the chill air sending a shiver through Hermann. He pulled his cardigan closer and stepped out. At the door, Rangers Lambert and Pentecost waited, chatting quietly to each other before spotting them come down the hall.

"Doctor Gottlieb, Miss Shao." Lambert's charming smile and firm handshake caught Hermann off guard. "The Marshall informed us you were on your way to deal with Geiszler."

" _'Deal with_ ?'” Hermann frowned. “I suppose that's _one_ way to put it." Jake elbowed Lambert in the ribs and took over the conversation.

"Don't worry, mate, we got your back. Tell us what to do." Hermann cleared his throat.

"Yes, well...first things first. I need to discuss this with Newton, alone. If he accepts treatment, I will need your help transporting him to the medical laboratory. If he does not... I will likely need your help in subduing him." Hermann paused, chewing his lip. "I would prefer we avoid the latter option, but given the hold the Precursors have on him, it's entirely probable we will need to use force." Hermann rubbed his cheek, still sore and swollen from Newton's attack two days before.

"Right. You got it, Doc. Miss Shao?" Liwen smiled mysteriously at the Rangers.

"I will join Dr. Gottlieb. I have words for Geiszler."

Hermann scoffed, perturbed at this disruption of his plan. "I thought you never wanted to lay eyes on him again?" Liwen's eyes narrowed.

"I changed my mind."

"Just don't...provoke him, please. I want him amenable to us." Hermann knew that was unlikely in any case; at best, Newton would submit to Hermann's request, then attempt an escape or a deception of some sort. He could be ready for that, though. After all, who knew Newton best but he?

The two walked in, and Newton raised his head blearily to look at them. He grinned and chuckled weakly, watching with wild, bloodshot eyes as Hermann made his way to the chair across from him, Liwen standing next to him with her hands clasped behind her back.

"So, you brought a friend this time. Hey, Boss." Newton laughed hoarsely, his throat sounded dry as a desert. "Guess I'm fired, huh?" More laughter. Liwen said nothing.

"Newton, do you know why we're here?"

"Because you guys really have a thing for wasting your own time?"

"...We want to begin trying to heal your mind. To do that, we need to study your condition in a laboratory setting."

"Hermann, come on! I've never been better! Just let me go and I'll show you." Newton's lips curled into a cruel sneer. "We will show you how superior we are."

Liwen scoffed. "Superior? For all your claims of dominance over us, it is you, not we, locked in a basement like a dog."

Hermann hissed. "Ms. Shao....please."

"Naw, Herms, it's alright. That's how she always was. A cold bitch with a stick up her ass. She had the nerve to call _me_ vain and narcissistic." Hermann put his hand up.

" _Das ist genug, Newton._ " Hermann's shift to German seemed to surprise Newton. " _Habe ich dich jemals belogen_?"

Newton's eyes softened, and Hermann saw the grief and fear there. "..N-no."

" _Ich werde dich retten. Egal wie hart du kämpfst. Egal wie lange es dauert_ ." Hermann watched as Newton's gaze dropped to the floor. He softened his voice. " _Ich werde nicht zulassen, dass sie dich von mir nehmen_."

Newton’s shoulders shook, and he let out a strangled sob. "Hermann...i-it’s already too late, they... "

"I need you to come upstairs with me for some tests. Will you come willingly?"

"No!!" His cry scraped against the walls like the desperate clawing of a trapped animal. Hermann betrayed no pity, gazing coldly down upon him.

"Then we will have you sedated and escorted to the lab."

"Why bother pretending you're giving us a choice?" Newton looked up at Hermann, choking back another sob.

"Because you _do_ have a choice. I want to give you the opportunity for dignity. As...cruel and inhuman as you are, you still have sentience. You still think and feel. I could treat you like a captured beast, or a prisoner of war. I prefer the latter.”

It took awhile, but eventually, Newton responded. "...fine." His voice rumbled with a dozen tones. "We will do as you ask." The voices laugh together. "It's not as if you can actually take us away."

"Perhaps you're right." Hermann smiled gently, recognizing for the first time the sound of fear in the Precursors' voice. "Regardless, I made Newton a promise. I intend to keep it." Hermann rose from his chair and looked to Liwen. "Anything you'd like to add?"

Liwen moved closer to Newton and stared him down like a cockroach underfoot. "You say you're superior to us, but only cowards use others to do their dirty work. Remember that." With that, Liwen turned on her heel and stormed out. Hermann watched her leave, a tint of color heating his cheeks. She had that effect on him, it seemed--not so much attraction as a deep, palpable admiration. In another life, perhaps he could have commanded that kind of respect and presence.

“Rangers Lambert and Pentecost will escort you to the medical laboratory.” Newton’s head hung low, and Hermann found himself desperately wanting to touch his face, stroke his hair, hold him to his chest. “I will see you there, Newton.” As he turned and walked away, he heard Newton whisper to the concrete floor.

“ _Es tut mir leid_ , Hermann...” Hermann felt his heart clench in his chest and he white-knuckled the doorknob as he made his way out the door, leaving Lambert and Pentecost to their work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Das ist genug - "That is enough."  
> Habe ich dich jemals belogen? - "Have I ever lied to you?"  
> Ich werde dich retten. Egal wie hart du kämpfst. Egal wie lange es dauert. - "I will save you. No matter how hard you fight. No matter how long it takes."  
> Ich werde nicht zulassen, dass sie dich von mir nehmen. - "I won't let them take you from me.  
> Es tut mir lied- I'm sorry


	3. Chapter 3

The quiet of the laboratory did not soothe Hermann; in fact, it set his teeth on edge. The nurses and medical technicians milled about, whispering and muttering to each other over their holographic clipboards and their measurements and figures, heart rate monitors squeaked out the occasional beep, and before him, Newton slept, breathing deeply through his parted lips. Hermann picked at the cuticle of his thumb absentmindedly, disregarding the sting of breaking skin.

Seeing him resting peacefully after days of railing against his restraints comforted Hermann in a way, despite his forced repose. He watched Newton's eyes flicker beneath his eyelids, and hoped the Precursors would let him dream.

Hermann heard the familiar click of Liwen's heels and turned to meet her. She stood beside him wordlessly, watching Newton as he had been. "Rest will do him good. No doubt he pushed his body to its limits." Hermann nodded, his lips stretched into a worried line.

"Jake told me he's refused to eat or sleep. When they'd release him to do so, he attacked them. _Attacked_ them." He repeated, as if trying to convince himself that it had really happened.

"Have you eaten yet?"

"You're beginning to remind me of my mother." Liwen chuckled.

"Your mind and body will not perform well if you don't care for it. I realize you don't want to leave him, but you can carry a sandwich with you while you work.  At least let someone bring something from the mess hall." Hermann grumbled. He didn't appreciate Liwen patronizing him, especially since she was right.

"Fine."

"Thank you. Now, how much longer will we have to wait on results?"

"Not long. We've been recording his brain activity for two hours now. Once we get a suitable sample for study, we can begin analysis and make a strategic plan for treatment." She placed her hands on the ledge of the window separating them from Newton.

"Very good." Liwen looked to Hermann. His eyes never left Newton, not even as they spoke. She let out a heavy breath through her nose.

"Can I ask you something personal?"

"Haven't you done that already?" Hermann huffed, shoving his free hand into the pocket of his sweater. "... I'm sorry. I should not take out my frustrations on you."

"Well, considering you're pushing yourself to your limits, I expect you to be somewhat… cranky."

Hermann sputtered out a reply. "Cranky?!"

"Yes. Cranky."

"... Ask your question then."

Liwen looked over Newton, tapping the ledge with her fingernail. "Why are you pushing yourself so hard? Be honest." When Hermann didn't answer immediately, she continued. "I have enjoyed helping you so far, but the more I watch you work, the more I wonder what your intentions are. And also..." She smiled. "I understand German." Hermann went pale.

"...If you understood what I said to Newton, then you have your answer." Liwen nodded her head.

"I suspected as much."

"Well, you know what they say. The truth will out." Hermann smiled ruefully, running his palm over the head of his cane. "At first I thought the Drift had damaged my mind, made me more… amenable to Newton in an unnatural way. On the contrary..." He let out a short laugh. "It merely opened my eyes to the facts I had rejected for twenty years."

Liwen looked over at him. "And Geiszler?"

Hermann closed his eyes and bent his head, almost prayerfully. "I don't know. The Drift didn't see fit to reveal that secret to me."

After a moment, one of the many machines monitoring Newton made a whirring sound. The monitors along the wall lit up with his brain wave patterns, and Hermann hurried inside to have a look. He settled into the chair and rolled it close, placing his hands on either side of the keyboard. "Now, Newton… show me where it hurts."

According to the scans, it hurt everywhere. Newton's brain waves screamed with activity, drawing jagged lines up and down the charts. At times, they changed in shape completely. To Hermann's eyes, the patterns were incomprehensible; hardly patterns at all, at least not in any way Hermann had ever observed.

Liwen came around and looked over his shoulder. "Remarkable. You can actually see the two signatures overlapping."

"Yes. And you can tell when one signature overwhelms another. Literally, a battle of the minds."

"Let's hope Geiszler is winning."

Hermann frowned. "I need to give him an advantage." He swiveled his chair around and looked back at Newton sleeping in his bed. _But how?_ He swiped his hand over his face, his fingers pausing to pinch the bridge of his nose. Liwen was right. His mind had done nothing but sputter and wheeze around this conundrum. It felt like trying to catch wisps of spider silk in a spring breeze.

"Dr. Gottlieb?" Liwen placed a hand on his shoulder, which surprised him enough to catch his attention. He looked up at her, and she smiled. "You will find a way. Go rest. I will look over this data for you while you're gone." Hermann swallowed, a lump rising to his throat, and placed his hand over hers.

"... Thank you," he croaked, trying and failing to maintain the illusion that he was, in any way, holding himself together.

"Thank me by leaving this laboratory for twenty four hours, at least." Hermann nodded and hoisted himself up with his cane.

"That's a hard ask."

"I know you can handle it." Hermann chuckled and made his way out of the lab, up the elevator and to the mess hall. Inside, cadets and Rangers busied themselves with conversation, carrying their lunches to tables. He smiled warmly as he watched Ranger Lambert lean in and kiss his Drift partner on the cheek as he sat down. Reyes leaned over the table and did the same, prompting Jake to chuckle sheepishly and wipe it away.

To be young and in love… what must that feel like? At 46, he certainly felt his age, and yet he had never experienced things like this: chaste kisses, the gentle touch of knuckles brushed quietly against each other, whispers, smiles across a crowded room. Most of his romantic experience, he realized, involved yelling, throwing objects at each other's heads and, occasionally, shoving each other against walls. _Or, as the case may be, into mattresses._ How positively _ideal_.

Hermann ran himself through the service line, fetching himself a sandwich, salad and coffee--this time he made sure to add cream and sugar. As he scanned the hall for an empty place to sit, he saw a face too familiar to believe, attached to a body wearing the most absurd necktie imaginable and a pair of Converse propped up on the table. He hustled as quickly as he could toward it.

"Tendo?" Hermann said far too loudly. "Tendo Choi?!" Tendo's eyebrows shot up and he cocked a grin.

"Hey, man. What's shakin'?" Tendo waved with that cool demeanor that Hermann had secretly admired and envied. He took a sip of his soda and turned a page in the book on his lap.

"I, ah...nothing is shaking, really. How are you? It's been so long since I've seen you."

"Yeah, ten years, bro. It's been wild, huh?"

"Yes, most definitely. May I join you?" Tendo grinned and snorted a laugh.

"Dude… really? You don’t need to ask.” Hermann settled onto the bench and laid his cane lengthwise across it.

“It’s polite.” He took a sip of his coffee. “So, what on earth have you been doing, Tendo?”

“Scrapping, mostly. Folks know that I know a Jaeger inside and out, and since the PPDC has suddenly become important to the big wigs again, they hired me to supervise a lot of the salvage efforts.” 

“That’s wonderful, I’m thrilled that they have recognized your value.” Tendo shrugged. Modest, as ever. Hermann always found that strange when compared to his fashion sense, which was anything but.

“Eh. Hey, at least I’m helping getting this operation back in shape. I’ve had a look around, and man, they’ve really let this place go.”

“To be fair, a fleet of Kaiju-Drones tore it apart no more than a week ago.” Tendo nodded, crossing his arms. He didn’t look convinced.

“Well, in any case...” He rolled his toothpick between his teeth, as if trying to determine what to say. “I heard you’ve had a hard time.”

Hermann stiffened a bit, taking a delicate bite of his salad and chewing thoughtfully. “From whom?”

“Heh, see? You gave yourself away. When you freeze up like that, I know you’re trying to shake me off.” Tendo leaned forward, shooting him a wide grin. “If you wanna know, it was Mako, God rest her soul. She worried about you, and now, so do I. Tell me what’s going on.” Hermann breathed in deeply through his nose, his eyes downcast.

“Tendo… what do you know about Newton?”

“Only that he went AWOL and tried to kill us all. Nobody’s told me why, it’s all confidential, which I understand.”

“Using the Drift, the Precursor hive mind gained control of Newton. We are still unsure of exactly when—I cannot imagine we will ever know, but I have my own theories about that. They orchestrated it all through him: the infiltration of Shao industries, the corruption of Shao technology, the attack on Tokyo and Shanghai… ”

“Shit.” Tendo spat out his toothpick and swiped his hand over his mouth. “Where is he now?”

“Unconscious, in the medical laboratory. Before that, screaming in a cell, handcuffed to a chair.” Hermann’s mouth twitched downward. “I’m trying to find a way to help him, but… until I have more information, all I can do is wait.”

“And you hate that.” Hermann put his hand up.

“For God’s sake, don’t try to psychoanalyze me. Ms. Shao has been doing that since I met her.” Tendo laughed out loud.

“Dude, that’s not what I’m trying to do. It’s just… you love him.”

Hearing it said out loud, where everyone, _anyone_ could hear, went through Hermann and nearly knocked the breath out of him. Tendo knew. Who else? How obvious had he been? Of course, everyone knew about their sexual affairs; one simply did not keep those things secret in such close quarters. Tying someone to the foot of your bed, however, does not a romance make. “What? You gonna tell me you don’t?”

“... No. I’m too exhausted to argue.” Hermann sighed and drank down the rest of his coffee.

“Hermann, it’s not a big deal. You don’t have to hide it—“

“I’m not hiding it,” Hermann snapped, and Tendo sat back a bit.

“What do you call this then?”

Hermann put his hands in his lap and looked away, glancing back at the table where Jake sat laughing, his head a little too close to Lambert’s shoulder, his hand on Jules’. “I am attempting to temper myself, in case—“

“In case?”

“In case I fail.” Tendo reached over and patted his arm gently with a look of such sincerity that Hermann couldn’t help but feel better.

“You need to stop that right now and give yourself a break. You got Newton back here. Sounds to me like that was half the battle. Give it time. Give _him_ time. That stubborn motherfucker will come back.” Hermann laughed in spite of himself. “Things will work out. You’ll see.”

“I appreciate your vote of confidence. Are you staying long?”

“Few days, I’d say. Got a lot of parts to sort through, make sure they end up where they’re supposed to. Let’s talk again when you’re feeling better. Dinner on me.”

“I’d like that very much, Tendo.” Tendo’s watch beeped, and he cursed, stepping out from the bench.

“Sorry to cut and run. Gotta meet this shipment.” Hermann merely nodded and watched Tendo make his way briskly across the mess hall and out of his sight. After forcing himself through the rest of his lunch, he made his way back to his quarters, locking the door behind him and hanging his cane on the back of his desk chair before crawling into his bed, fully clothed.

Another thing that, at another time, he never would have done, though at least he remembered to kick off his shoes. Hermann kept finding pieces of Newton inside himself, when he least expected it.

Despite his protests, his eyes began to flutter shut and his body seemed to sink into the sheets beneath him. As he fell asleep, it occurred to Hermann, at perhaps the worst time imaginable, that the three of them—Tendo, Newton and himself--were the only ones left alive from the old Shatterdome. Once Tendo departed, who knew when Hermann would see him again? A feeling of dread crept over him and he curled himself into his duvet. If he lost Newton...

If he lost Newton, he would be all alone. Once upon a time, that might not have bothered him; in fact, he had begged for solitude back in Hong Kong, though Pentecost and Hansen wouldn’t (or couldn’t) honor his requests. His proximity to Newton had grated on him like a rough stick of chalk against a blackboard; with every word, every shout and crash and odor, he had created a personal Hell from which Hermann had no escape.

Well, that wasn’t _entirely_ true. At some point, Hermann had found a way to _make_ Newton shut up, but that had required a great deal of effort and some rope.

Hermann smiled at that, in spite of himself, as he finally fell asleep.

=

_In his dream, a voice. Then two, then ten. Then ten thousand._

_A blast of blue light blinds him from behind his eyelids._

_A language, shrill and musical and droning on and on, screams against the inside of his mind. Hands push him away and he feels his body sink, falling faster and faster._

_LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE US._

“ _Hermann… leave me.”_

=

Hermann woke up screaming, struggling against his sheets as if they strangled him. He shivered, his body clammy with cold sweat. As he tried to regain his grip on reality, his eyes fell on the digital clock by his bed. 3:45 AM _. Naturally_.

He eased himself out of bed and winced; his leg had not yet forgiven him for the punishment he’d inflicted on it over the past few days. Limping to the bathroom, he ran himself a bath, resting on the toilet while the hot steam filled the room. How much of that had truly been a dream? Newton had spoken to him! He hadn’t imagined it! And yet… how could that be? What sort of phenomenon could allow Newton to communicate through dreams? Perhaps, after all, the Drift had twisted his mind to the point where dream and reality blurred together.

He threw off his pajamas and crawled in, letting his muscles unspool in the hot water. In the cold air, steam rose from his body like tentacles grasping and writhing in the deep. Lately, Hermann’s dreams appealed to him far more than his waking life, when his body would _allow_ him to dream at all. And why not? At least there, he could relive the moments with Newton that hung on the precipice of disaster just a few floors above in a sterile hospital bed. He thought of the dream he had at Liwen’s penthouse, how real Newton’s lips had felt brushing over his own, the low rumble of his voice in his ear.

Perhaps… it _had_ been real. 

Hermann clambered out of the tub and threw on his bathrobe before rushing to his desk, pulling out a sheet of paper and a pen.

_Theories:_

_My sick mind attempting to scrounge up painful memories as some kind of coping mechanism – probably_

_Telepathy – this frankly sounds like some x-men poppycock that Newton would love_

_Residual Drift effects – ghost Drifting --_

Hermann scribbled frantically, his mind sharpening with determination. At the bottom of the page, in hideous cursive, he scrawled out his hypothesis:

_Could Drifting with Newton have created a permanent neural exchange?_

The thought had occurred to Hermann before. After all, he had changed since his Drift with Newton, and in more ways than a newfound penchant for coffee. He found himself more excitable, less attentive, and had grown rather fond of examining the various Kaiju samples that the PPDC had assigned him to study. But he’d never truly considered the ramifications; he’d simply thought of it as a quaint side effect, something that would wear off. It hadn’t. In fact, Hermann had noticed it get worse since seeing Newton again.

If he could find conclusive evidence that his own brain waves had experienced permanent change as a result of his drift with Newton and Otachi, then… it stood to reason that performing another Drift might do the same for Newton. Sans Alice, this could potentially begin the healing process—

For God’s sake.

Hermann put his pencil down and cradled his head in his hands. He wanted so badly to save Newton. Too badly. Drifting had brought Newton to this state; how on Earth could Hermann have thought— _hoped—_ that Drifting would get him out?  
  
Selfishness. After ten years of no contact, melding minds with Newton again would...well, maybe it would fill the gaping hole inside himself, that space where words and touches and smiles used to reside. As painful as that initial Drift had been, the memory that stayed with him wasn’t the sting of vomit in his throat or the tremors or the blood gushing from his nose. Drifting with Newton, seeing the innermost depths of his soul, had felt… _right,_ as if the puzzle of his life had found its missing piece. Without him... 

Hermann laid himself back down in bed, pulling his pillow flush against his body and gripping the soft cotton tight.

_Without him..._

The sun finally rose. Hermann brushed his teeth and dressed himself mechanically, his body aching from the lack of sleep. He made his way directly to the laboratory, his page of notes folded neatly into the pocket of his sweater. Nonsense, but one had to start somewhere.

When he arrived, he saw Liwen beside Newton, scribbling away on a clipboard in her hand.

“Good morning, Liwen.” Her given name slipped from his lips carelessly, but if it upset her, she said nothing.

“Good morning, Dr. Gottlieb.” Her eyes twinkled playfully and Hermann smiled. “You look tired.”

“Who’s surprised?” He muttered bitterly as he moved to Newton’s side and looked down at him. He hadn’t budged, but his brows furrowed intermittently as he slept and his hand twitched where it rested on his lap. “He’s not sleeping well either, it seems.”

“His brain wave patterns keep modulating, growing more and more unstable as the evening has progressed. I’ve consulted with the neuro specialists in the laboratory, and they have hypothesized that the lack of external stimuli has sent Newton into “combat” with the Precursor influence inside him.” Hermann cocked his eyebrow.

“Forgive me. Can you elaborate?”

“Imagine this: you’re sitting in a room with your worst enemy—“

“I don’t have to imagine. He nearly broke my nose,” Hermann said flatly.

Liwen rolled her eyes. “Please try to work with me. I understand you’re tired but there’s no reason to be petulant.” Hermann’s cheeks reddened.

“... Go on.”

“Imagine sitting there, with your worst enemy. Let’s say you’re in a reception area. Now, you might not know anyone in the reception area, but you want desperately to avoid your enemy, so you wander around, perhaps strike up a conversation with the receptionist or the man getting a drink from the water cooler. Anything to avoid a confrontation, anything to prevent yourself from making a scene in public. Now imagine being locked in a room with this person. Will you be able to prevent a conflict?”

“I… think I understand. Both Newton and the Precursors used their interactions with others, with their environment, to assert their presence independently of each other. Now, Newton’s body is unconscious, and as a result they only have each other. They’re in direct conflict.”

“You’ve got it.”

Hermann rubbed his eyes and went back to his workstation, where pages and pages of Newton’s brain wave patterns lay scattered across the table, annotated in Liwen’s neat Mandarin. “I have a theory, Liwen. Last night, I… well, here. You can see for yourself.” Hermann handed Liwen the notes he had feverishly scratched out the night before, and she scanned them quietly.

“You think… Drifting with Geiszler might help him assert control over himself?”

“I don’t… I don’t really know. I just know that when we Drifted together, I experienced a number of quantifiable changes in my personality. Upon analysis of mine and Newton’s brain wave readings, over the course of the Drift they merged quite successfully. In another life, we may have made ace Jaeger pilots.” He laughed to avoid the old sting of disappointment.

“Like the coffee,” Liwen answered, tapping her chin with her pen. “So, what you’re proposing is that introducing your brain wave patterns into Geiszler’s to… flush the Precursors out?”

“That’s the essence of it, yes. Should this work, the influence of the Precursors will wane as Newton’s mind constructs a new, healthier infrastructure built around what his mind receives from mine.” Hermann found a stool and sat down, running his hand through his hair. “Of course, I have absolutely zero evidence to support the viability of this plan. None except my instinct.”

“At this point, we don’t have much else to go on. The worst that could happen is—“

“I could be possessed as well. _That’s_ the worst thing that could happen. If I fall under their control, I could tear this entire operation asunder.”

“I know you’re willing to take that risk, and so do you.” Liwen moved away from Newton and sat across from Hermann, looking him in the eyes. “You told me you Drifted with Geiszler _and_ the Kaiju brain, yet only Geiszler fell under their control. We don’t have time to test it, but in my opinion the probability of possession seems low. This time, _we_ call the shots.” Liwen smiled and patted his shoulder reassuringly. “Besides, if you did end up under the Precursors’ control, I’d put a bullet in your head.”

“How very… comforting, thank you.” Hermann took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to will away the fear, the excitement, the panic blooming inside him. He gripped his cane and opened his eyes, rising to his feet like an old warrior returning to battle. “We’ll need a pair of Pons headsets. We’ll need to commandeer the computer systems in the lab, reprogram them to run the Neural Handshake program--aagh!” Hermann’s leg suddenly gave out, but before he could fall, Liwen quickly caught him by the waist and, with surprising strength, helped him stand. “Thank--thank you, Liwen.” He muttered, completely mortified, and she chuckled.

“Pull yourself together, Doctor.” Hermann clung to the ballast of her smile as he righted himself in her arms. ”We have work to do.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Google Translate German in this chapter, translation at the end. As always, open to suggestions on how to best write the language without sounding like a robot.

"You're pretty fuckin' brave Hermann."

"'Brave' isn't the term I'd use. I am well aware of the risks involved."

Hermann and Newton sat across from each other in identical chairs, the only perceivable difference laid in the restraints around Newton's wrists and chest. The neurologists in the lab had hooked up to a number of sensors and recording devices, the wires of which snaked over his shoulder and coiled around his feet.

If nothing else, Newton looked well-rested. The circles around his eyes had faded somewhat, and his eyes focused sharply on Hermann. In the harsh light of the laboratory, Hermann could see in even greater relief the damage this invasion had done. Newton’s cheeks had lost their chubbiness, and his stomach--oh, that hurt more than anything. Newton had lost his little pudge of a belly. The nurses had bandaged the wounds around Newton’s wrists, but Hermann could see they’d already frayed.

"You don't wanna take a walk in here." He growled, and Hermann chuckled in spite of how pitiful Newton looked across from him, hissing and spitting like a caged animal.

“Newton, just try to relax.” Newton struggled a bit harder against his restraints but eventually settled down, refusing to look Hermann in the eye. “Liwen, can we begin?”

“As soon as the Neural Handshake software finishes calibrating the computer systems. It’s dragging down the processors a bit more than the technicians anticipated.” Hermann sucked in a breath. This didn’t surprise him, but it _did_ worry him.

“It will work. It’s not as if we’re trying to operate a Jaeger at the same time.” Liwen nodded, her eyes scanning the monitors at her workstation.

“Alright. We’ve got the green light.” She paused for a moment. “Are you _sure_ you want to do this? You can still call it off.”

“Yes. I have to try.” Hermann answered, ignoring Newton’s cruel laughter. _Not Newton’s,_ he reminded himself. _Hold on. I’m coming for you._

“See, that’s the _really_ sad part of all this, Herm. You think I’m just… locked away in here somewhere, waiting to be found.” Newton’s lips curled into a sadistic grin. “That’s not how this works, buddy. This _is_ Newt Geiszler now.” Hermann felt the pinpricks of fear on his skin, but he refused to betray that on his face.

“We shall see.” He answered flatly.

“Drift commencing in T-5. 4. 3.—“ The tinny voice of the program’s AI barely registered in Hermann’s mind. As Hermann’s vision gave way to the Drift, as his eyes rolled back in his head and his body stiffened, he heard the whisper of something else.

“ _Turn back, Hermann.”_

* * *

 

_Hermann felt the pressure of the Drift on his mind as it went hurtling through his life and Newton’s, the memories swirling around him like ocean currents. Newton riding a bicycle down a sidewalk; Hermann gripping his leg, his face twisted with agony. Newton defending his fourth—fifth? dissertation, Hermann holding Newton’s seizing body on the floor of their lab in Hong Kong. Newton bringing Hermann a cup of tea, leaning forward, his grin like a beam of sunlight on his—_

When the rush of voices and blur of lights cleared, Hermann found himself back in Newton's bedroom, or at least Newton's memory of it. The edges of his vision blurred and warped, a typical effect of the Drift--nothing looked quite real. Apart from that, everything looked the same, just slightly more lived-in. Newton had left his bedsheets all bunched up at the bottom of the mattress, and the Pons headset sat on his computer desk. Alice, however, sat covered with a black sheet. So much the better; Hermann didn't want to look at her anyway.

Hermann jumped at the sudden sound of glass shattering against the wall. He rushed toward it and saw Newton, sitting at the kitchen bar, one hand closed around the bottle of Jägermeister--the same he'd found in his refrigerator before. His shoulders shook almost imperceptibly, and he had rested his forehead on the countertop. Drunk; no, _inebriated._

"Newton..." Hermann moved slowly toward him, wary of what Newton might do if startled. Then again, could he hurt Hermann in a memory? Hermann reached out to touch Newton's shoulder, but stopped when he started to cry.

"Her-hermann..." Newton hiccupped, clutching his head in his hands. "Why...what are you doing here?" Hermann didn’t immediately answer, taking the time instead to gently pull the bottle from Newton’s hand. Good lord, had he been drinking this  _straight?_ “Helps get them to shut up for a little while. Heh, guess they don’t get plastered too often in the Anteverse.”

Hermann laughed half-heartedly. How could he crack a joke at a time like this? “I suppose you’re right.” He paused, running his hand along Newton's forearm, feeling the taut muscle and sinew beneath his colorful skin. "Newton, _bitte komm mit mir. Ich... Wir brauchen dich._ "

This provoked a violent response from Newton, who smacked his hand away and hit his fist against the countertop. "No! Stop! Fuckin' stop it, Hermann! Just stop! You don’t understand, you can’t... I can't do anything. They w-wont let me, Hermann, don't you see?!"

"No, Newton. You can fight it. I know you can." Newton laughed, not the cold mechanical sound he'd made in Shanghai. A soft sound, his sound, broken and hoarse and scared.

"Hermann...just leave me. It’s too fuckin’ late… I fucked it up. I fucked everything up.”

"I will do no such thing." He could feel Newton's emotions, his thoughts, swelling inside him as if they were his own. Fear. Despair. And perhaps, a glimpse of hope?

He was running out of time. The Drift connection wouldn't last, especially given the fragility of Newton's psyche.

"Newton, I promise you, I will not rest until we destroy these monsters' hold on you. I need to, ah--Newton, I…” _Tell him, tell him, you fool, you dunce, you absolute cock--_

Before he could convince himself to say another word, Hermann woke up shaking, his fists clenched hard enough to pierce the skin with his nails. Newton had passed out, his nose bleeding and dripping onto his hospital gown. Liwen moved to his side in a flash.

“Dr. Gottlieb, what happened?” She checked him over quickly, cross-referencing his physical reactions to the data feeding itself into her tablet.

"Liwen, he's in there. Under--" Hermann tried to catch his breath. "Under layers and layers of neurological damage. I couldn't pull him out, but now I _know_ there’s a way! There has to be a way." Liwen handed him a towel, resting her hand on his shoulder while he wiped the sweat from his face. “I’ll have to Drift with him again. The more I can learn about the nature of this Precursor control--”

"I don't think that's wise." Hermann looked up at her, confused.

"What--what do you mean?"

Liwen sat her tablet down on the table, taking a deep breath and pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. She would not look Hermann in the eye. "The Marshal has informed us that Geiszler will face charges for what he did. I may as well. There… a lot of people died because of him, and because of me." Hermann's ears rang and his eyes unfocused, his mind a five-alarm fire.

"No...no, he can't--they can't do that! They'll put him away!" Liwen's brow furrowed.

"Did you consider the idea that they may need to do that? You're not certain this Drifting will help him." Hermann's heart raced, his cheeks flushing with anger.

"No. I won't accept this! They're not even giving him a chance to recover!"

One of the technicians snorted. "Like he deserves one."

Another tech elbowed him. “Dude, _shut up_. Sorry, Doc. You have to understand that the prevailing opinion of Dr. Geiszler is pretty negative around here." Hermann laughed bitterly. So, he had been right. None of them really cared after all. He rose slowly from his chair, gripping his cane and heading for the door.

“I see that I will get no real help here.” He growled under his breath as he stormed away.

"Dr. Gottlieb--" Liwen called after him, but he did not respond. He couldn't. His heart would betray him, he'd rail against them, scream and curse and embarrass himself. He had no Stacker Pentecost or Hercules Hansen to look past his callous exterior and empathize with him; if he burned these bridges, he would have no chance of saving Newton at all. The anger would pass eventually, though for now he felt like it would swallow him up.

Hermann had to get out. He walked outside into the chill of the landing strip, relaxing as the air alleviated the heat of his indignation. In the misty rain, he stood and watched the construction workers and loaders do their work of moving Jaeger scrap and ruined walls. Tendo called out orders here and there, pointing out where to go and what to do. Tendo had always been so self-assured, so reasoned and friendly and understanding. Hermann had often spent time with him when Newton had grated on his last nerve, when he felt helpless and alone. Tendo always knew what to say. Hermann almost felt bad for continually harassing him for advice and comfort, but Tendo never complained.

Maybe Tendo could help him again.

He waited for Tendo to come close to the doors and waved. Predictably, Tendo reciprocated and approached. "Hey, Hermann. Kinda chilly out here for a stroll, isn't it?"

"I suppose. I needed to clear my head. I received some… discouraging information."

"Oh yeah?" Tendo continued watching the work as he talked, his hands shoved into his trouser pockets.

"The Council plans to press charges against Newton." Tendo grimaced.

"Yeah, I kind of figured. Can you blame them, Hermann?" Hermann's face twisted into a look of disgust and disbelief.

"Yes! I can! Do they not realize that Newton--the Precursors manipulated him! They made him do these things!"

"Hermann, they need someone to take the fall for this. Shao Industries will no doubt lawyer up. Liwen isn't going to allow herself to take blame for something her employee did." Hermann pursed his lips. Of _course_ not. He had been foolish to think Liwen would let this tarnish her legacy, at least officially. For all her talk of redeeming herself, she still put her business first.

"I don't care what _they_ need!" Hermann hit his cane against the tarmac. "I need--" His voice faltered, and he croaked out. "I need him." Tendo wrapped his arm around Hermann's shoulders.

"I know. Listen, Newt's always been kinda unhinged. Maybe... he snapped."

"I refuse to believe that after what I saw in the Drift. " Herman answered flatly, and Tendo laughed in defeat.

"Right, right. Should have known you wouldn't take that for an answer."

Hermann looked atTendo with pleading eyes. "I beg you, if you have any pull, any influence with these people--"

"I don't, man. They contract me, but I’m not a hero like Mako and Raleigh. I just haul their scrap." Hermann’s shoulders slumped and his eyes filled with unbidden tears. He knew what would happen, should Newton face a court in this condition. He would have no way to assert himself over the Precursor construct in his mind. He'd spout off all sorts of nonsense about destroying the world and they'd put him in prison for life. He'd remain forever a shadow of himself, a twisted simulacrum of the man he loved, locked away in a cell forever and ever. He’d never touch his hands again, never smell his hair, never kiss his lips. He’d never tell him that he loved him.

"This is _not_ fair." Hermann ground out through clenched teeth.

"Look, Hermann, I agree with you. What they’re doing, it ain’t even about revenge. It’s about politics. You just have to work fast. They haven't come for him yet. You have data that proves his brain got fucked with. You know he didn't mean for this to happen, and so does Jake. His opinion might hold some weight, now that he’s back in the PPDC’s good graces. Look, Newt’s a crazy motherfucker but… he's a good man."

“You don’t need to tell me that. I _know_ he is a good man.”

Tendo paused, contemplating. "You know, you're asking the wrong person for a favor."

"What? There's… there's someone else?"

"Yeah. Keep it quiet; she doesn't want to upset Jake right now, after everything.” Tendo pulled his phone from his back pocket and flipped to a photo. Hermann gasped. “The doctors plan to call him sometime soon. It’ll rub him the wrong way if he finds out from some random person."

“ _Miss Mori._ How?"

"Dude, beats the hell out of me. She's a fighter, that's for sure. Up and talking just a few days after, even having lost an arm and an eye." Tendo smiled reassuringly. “Look, I don’t know what she’s learned since the crash, but I’m sure she’s been doing her job from bed. She may have already begun speaking with the Council about Newton, I don’t know. I think it’s worth giving her a call.” Hermann nodded.

“Thank you! Oh, _thank you_ , Tendo, you don’t know how much this means to me.”

“Actually, I think I do. Look, I want you guys to have the life you deserve.” Hermann blushed, looking down at his shoes.

“’The life we deserve’? That implies Newton will _want_ a life with me.” Tendo simply laughed.

“Go call Mako. I’ll text you the number. And, Hermann? Stop making yourself sad thinking you’ll never get what you want. Just go _get_ it. Don’t let these assholes take it from you.” Hermann pulled himself together and nodded, rejuvenated by this new spring of hope.

They could hate Newton all he wanted. They could blame him and slander him, but he’d tear the Shatterdome to pieces with his bare hands before the Council and their thugs would lay a hand on him.

* * *

 

As soon as Hermann made it back to his quarters, he pulled out his cell phone and punched in the number Tendo had sent him. He couldn’t believe Mako had made it through the crash, but at the same time, imagining a PPDC or a Shatterdome without her presence simply made no sense. This followed the laws of reality nicely. _At least something is going right,_ Hermann thought to himself as his phone tried to connect to the other line.

“Shanghai International Hospital, how can I help you?”

Hermann suddenly felt himself grow nervous, and he stuttered out his response. “A-ah, yes. I am trying to reach Secretary-General Mako Mori? I was told to call this number.”

“Let me transfer you, sir.” With that the phone began to ring again, for what seemed like forever. Finally, someone picked up.

“Hello?” Hermann recognized Mako’s voice, despite its gravelly tone.

“Miss Mori? Ah, my goodness. It’s so good to hear your voice.” Hermann corrected himself quickly, realizing he hadn’t even announced himself. “It’s Dr. Gottlieb, forgive me.”

Mako chuckled weakly. “Hermann. I’m glad to hear from you too. How did you get this number?”

“Ah, Mr. Choi gave it to me.”

“I see. He wouldn’t have done that unless you needed something important.” Mako sighed. “Unfortunately, I’m limited in my ability to help the PPDC. Half the Council doesn’t even know I’m alive, and the other half wants me to stay out of things until I’m back on my feet.”

“I understand, Mako.” Hermann continued, despite his growing apprehension. “I take it they’ve debriefed you on Dr. Geiszler’s situation?”

“...yes. I’m aware of his prominent role in what happened.” Mako paused for a moment. “I don’t really understand why he would do such a thing.”

“The Precursors, Mako. They controlled him through the Drift--we’ve done some research on the issue and I think we can reverse the effects. That’s why I need you to--that’s what I need you to tell the Council before they take Newton to trial. If he addresses the court in his current condition, he’ll talk his way into a padded cell for the rest of his life, and I…” Hermann paused. “He doesn’t deserve that. He deserves a second chance, after all the good he’s done for us all.” Mako didn’t immediately answer, and Hermann feared he’d wasted his time and shown his hand in vain.

“I am...not sure exactly what Dr. Geiszler “deserves”, but I believe that if he truly cannot control his actions, we will not see justice done until he recovers.”

“Yes, I totally agree.” Hermann closed his eyes and sighed in relief. “I knew you’d understand.”

“Dr. Gottlieb, I don’t want to get your hopes up. I can try to explain this to the Council, but should they choose to ignore me, they will arrest him anyway.”

“I know. I had to ask. I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have called, not while you’re recovering, but I don’t--I can’t save him from this. I can heal his mind, I can try to guide him back to reality, but I cannot protect him from these people. And I will not allow them to take him away.” _From me_ , he wanted to say, but he kept that thought to himself, kept it close like a locket hidden beneath his shirt.

“Hermann.” Her voice had changed, lost its authority. “You don’t have to do this.”

Hermann laughed nervously. “Do what?”

“Pretend. I know why you want him to stay at the Shatterdome.” Mako continued. “We all knew, didn’t you realize?”

Hermann’s cheeks burned. He supposed it made sense, though somehow he had fooled himself into thinking they had engaged in some surreptitious affair that no one could detect. He’d thought that those on the outside assumed their petty rivalry lived on, that their obnoxious arguments didn’t serve as a smokescreen for their intimacy. It never occurred to him that their relationship had simply been a fact of life to the rest of the Shatterdome.

“N-no. I didn’t.” Mako chuckled and Hermann thought his face would melt.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Nobody ever judged you. We thought you were made for each other. A perfect match.” Hermann swallowed hard, but before he could respond, Mako continued. “I promise I will do all I can to prevent the Council from taking Newton from Moyulan. Can you think of anything that might incentivize them?”

Hermann thought for a moment, then remembered the notes he’d found on Newton’s desk, with the marginal scribbles in the Precursor language. “Newton knows things about the Precursors that none of us could ever learn alone. If they take him before I can break the conditioning, I have no doubt that he will take that knowledge to the grave. Jake told me that the PPDC plans to launch a counterattack on the Precursors. I have no doubt that the things he knows will give us an advantage.”

“I will be sure to mention that. They will have a hard time turning that down.”

“I cannot thank you enough, Mako.” Hermann felt the tension in his body release and he eased himself down into a chair. “Please, get some rest and recover. I look forward to seeing you again.”

“Likewise, Hermann. Good luck with Dr. Geiszler. I truly hope you succeed.” With that, Mako hung up and Hermann leaned back in his chair, covering his face with his hands. Newton wasn’t out of the woods yet; Mako’s request could fall on deaf ears, but at least now Hermann had a chance.

Hermann paused to take stock of himself before he moved on: his body felt like a wreck. He had never been particularly resilient, even as a child. Though years of mockery and teasing had helped him develop an iron will, stress had always taken a toll on him, even more so after his injury. Getting older hadn’t helped. His leg throbbed, and the muscles in his shoulder and back complained bitterly, protesting with his every move. He’d have never gotten this far, had it not been Newton pushing him forward. He still had so much to do, but as he tried to rise, his body simply refused. Hermann leaned his head back against the upholstery of his chair, and as his mind began to empty, too tired to hold onto any more thoughts, his eyes slid closed.

* * *

 

_“Hey, Hermann?”_

_The sound of waves crashing against the side of the Shatterdome. His hands, cold, gripping the metal railing, slick with salt water. Newton stood beside him, his nose still bleeding, his eye still red and bloodshot. Above them, helicopters and heavy transports carry Gipsy Danger and Striker Eureka to the Breach, to their final conflict, their last stand. They can do nothing now but watch._

_“Yes, Newton?”_

_“You didn’t have to do that. Help me. I could have done it alone.”_

_“You could have died. You nearly died before.”_

_“Isn’t that...I mean, you don’t want me dead, you’re not a fuckin’ psychopath, but…” A tiny laugh, barely perceptible over the rain and the wind whipping around them. It musses his hair and sends that ridiculous tie of his flapping against his shoulder. “You wouldn’t have been that disappointed, right? If I just...never came back?”_

_Hermann looks to Newton. He wants to take him into his arms and never let go. He wants to peer into his mind again, speak into it, whisper all of the things he holds inside himself. Instead, he reaches over and places his palm on Newton’s bruised knuckles. His thumb traces through the dirt and grime to his soft skin, traces the curves of his fingers. He speaks to all of the Newton Geiszlers he’s ever known, past and future, forever._

_“Nothing could be further from the truth, Newton.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bitte kommen mit mir. - Please come with me.  
> Ich...Wir brauchen dich. - I...we need you.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter of the fic. Thank you so much to everyone who read and followed along, who gave me advice about German, etc. Y'all are the real deal.

  
Several days passed, each marked by Hermann's Drifts with Newton. Much to his chagrin, he usually only had the energy for a single session, due to the exhaustion of his mind and body, and Newton's inability to subvert the blocks that the Precursors had imposed on him. He went home each night totally spent, and his dreams (visions? nightmares?) left him emotionally drained.

He cursed his inability to help Newton. Every day he subjected him to the Drift, progress seemed to slip further away. The tangled web of their minds and those of the Precursors grew more and more incomprehensible each day. And of course, there was the ever present fear of the Council's injunction against Newton. Would Mako come through?

Finally, at the end of the week, Hermann had taken a break for tea when Jake Pentecost approached him in the mess hall and plopped down, a rakish grin on his face.

“I dunno how you did it, but the Council recalled their warrant for Geiszler’s arrest.” Jake leaned over the cafeteria table, his sandwich in one hand and a can of soda in the other. “What kind of deal did you make?”

Hermann chuckled nervously, trying not to betray Tendo’s secret. “I didn’t have to do much, save for ensure the Council that anything I learned from Newton would pass into their possession. That bought me some time.”

“Are you really gonna give it to them?”

“Of course. You’re planning your counter-strike, aren’t you? I want to see the Precursor threat neutralized just as much as anyone.” _Perhaps more_ , he thought secretly. _No, not perhaps. I want them more than neutralized. I want them obliterated._ He never imagined that he’d hate a race of creatures so vehemently.

“Well, the more intel we’ve got, the better our chances, mate.” Jake sighed and took a long drink of his soda. “Oi, uh...got a question for you. Kinda personal, so if you don’t wanna answer--”

“Yes.” Jake arched an eyebrow.

“Uhh, I didn’t ask the question.”

“It’s alright. I know what you’re going to ask. You wanted to know if my relationship with Dr. Geiszler reached beyond the professional. Yes, it does.” Hermann paused, taking a sip of his tea to counteract the bitter taste of regret in his mouth. “It did.”

“Ahh, sorry, mate. That’s rough.” Jake rested his chin in his hand, studying Hermann’s face. “Married?”

Hermann sputtered a bit, coughing and taking another drink of tea to clear his throat. “N-no, certainly not.”

“So just lovers? Casual sex? Romance?”

“You are rather nosy, Jake Pentecost.” He simply grinned.

“Yeah. I know. So which was it?”

“Why are you so interested in this all of a sudden?” Herman inquired, gently sitting his mug down on the table.

“I wanna understand why you’re sticking your neck out for a man who nearly destroyed the world.”

“That is where you are wrong, Jake. Newton didn’t almost destroy the world. The Precursors did.”

“That ain’t what everyone else believes.” Hermann frowned.

“I don’t care what everyone else believes.”

Jake laughed, an infectious sound that normally might have lifted Hermann’s spirits. In this case, it simply served to piss him off. “You’re not answering the question.”

Hermann sat and stared at Jake for a while, his lips pursed and downturned. “...I love him.” Jake quieted down and smiled at him with a look almost like pity that Hermann despised. He tried to remember that Jake had only tried to be kind.

“That’s what I figured. Well, that settles it then.” Jake stood, leaned over the table and clapped a hand on Hermann’s shoulder. “I’ll make sure to fight for him harder than ever.”

“What? I don’t...understand.”

“What’s not to understand, mate? You love him. He’s been hurt by these damned Precursors, and you want to help him. So I want to help you help him, which means bucking against the Council and whoever else wants to just sweep Dr. Geiszler away. I just wanted to make sure that all the effort would be worth it, and if you feel that way about him, well...then it’s worth it.”

Hermann blinked, completely blindsided. “Jake, that…means a great deal to me. Thank you.”

“Don’t sweat it. I don’t mind kicking dust into the eyes of authority for a good cause. Or even a bad cause.”

“I see.” Hermann chuckled. “You’ll get along splendidly with Newton, then.”

“Yeah?” Jake flashed an infectious grin. “I’ll look forward to meeting the real deal, then.” He rose and took his trash away, leaving Hermann seated alone at the table. It relieved him to have someone, anyone on his side in this. He didn’t care to face this alone; he’d have done it willingly, damn the risks. Jake’s word would mean something, especially now and especially to the Council. Had things begun to look up at last?

Hermann returned to the laboratory after finishing his tea. Newton slept in his hospital bed, no doubt sedated again for further monitoring. He hated that this had to be done, but the Precursors seemed to relish forcing Newton to push his body to its limits. Perhaps they feared the loss of connection; after all, how long had it been since Newton had last Drifted with that awful thing?

He had forgotten about Alice.

He looked past all the machines, past newton’s prone body in the bed, past the technicians and engineers, and saw her. They’d covered her up with a tarp and shoved her away. As it should be. He narrowed his eyes and moved thoughtlessly toward her--toward _it_ , dammit!--and reached out, ripping the tarp down and staring it down, face to face. Face to tendril, that is. He glanced behind him, but nobody seemed to have noticed Hermann, so he turned back to the Kaiju brain floating placidly behind the glass.

“Tell me how to save him. Tell me what you’ve done.” Hermann muttered quietly enough that even he could barely hear. Alice did nothing but shudder wordlessly. For a moment, Hermann got a frantic urge to hook her up to the Drift, to push himself into the hive mind and tear the answer from it. He could handle it, couldn’t he? After all, hadn’t he also Drifted with a Kaiju brain before? Hadn’t he survived?

Hermann knew the risk was too great, and yet he was having a difficult time convincing himself not to do it.

“Dr. Gottlieb?” Hermann jumped and turned in a flash to meet Liwen’s level gaze. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, I--” He looked back up at Alice, who made something of a gurgling noise inside the tank. “Trying to find some inspiration.”

“Please, cover that thing up. It will tell you nothing.” Hermann solemnly pulled the tarp back over the container and returned to Newton’s bedside with Liwen.

“Liwen, I...want to apologize for my outburst earlier this week. You have graciously given your time to help me save Newton, and I repaid you by taking out my frustrations on you. Can you forgive me?” Liwen picked up her tablet and stared down quietly at the screen for a moment, as if contemplating.

“Just remember this, Dr. Gottlieb. In saving Geiszler, I hope to save myself and my company. Proving Geiszler fell under the Precursors’ control exonerates me of any involvement in this scheme.”

“Yes, I know.” Hermann smiled wearily. He’d grown so fond of Liwen that he had forgotten she didn’t choose to aid him out of her mutual admiration of him. God in Heaven, when had he grown so sentimental?

He knew the answer to that question the same way he knew why he drank coffee and submerged himself elbow deep in Kaiju entrails.

“I forgive you, nevertheless.” Liwen returned his smile. “I sympathize with you. Loving someone, trying to help them against all odds… I’m not sure that’s a challenge I’d envy anyone.” She cleared her throat and set her tablet back down, tapping a few buttons on another console to bring up a 3D representation of Newton’s drift recordings and brain wave patterns. “Shall we continue, then?”

* * *

 

Hermann came back that night, despite Liwen’s admonitions and his own reservations, to Drift with Alice.

He hadn't meant to, but laying in the dark alone, he'd begun weighing the pros and cons. On the one hand, the PPDC may end up saddled with not one, but _two_ genocidal maniacs. He may die from the strain on his mind--though that seemed unlikely, as Newton had already demonstrated that one could live through it many times over. He could be arrested for tampering with evidence, but at this point he hardly cared about consequences. He'd pass on the information to Liwen and--

 _He hardly cared about consequences?_ Who was he anymore?

On the other hand, Alice could hold the key to breaking the Precursors’ hold on Newton. Newton had drifted with her over 700 times--just as Newton contained her, so must she contain pieces of Newton's experience that Hermann may not be privy to. Even with the time bought with his promises to the Council, nothing could stop them from simply taking Newton as well. He couldn't operate under the assumption that they'd keep their word.

So off he went. Now he stared her down, the connection made, the Pons headset in his shaking hand. He hadn't expected to freeze up like this--he’d prepared himself for this all day, and yet now he stood like a child before his worst nightmare.

He gripped his cane tighter, and slid the headset over his hair. It would be quick, he told himself, and then he'd know everything. All the things the Precursors had told him, all the pain they'd inflicted. He'd know how to heal Newton. No longer would he feel helpless, stupid, impotent.

“Hermann…” A croaking voice made him jump and whip the headset off.

“N-newton?” He swallowed hard, placing the Pons gently on the table as he approached. “Newton, is that you?”

“Are you fucking stupid?” Newton mumbled, rising from his bed. “Were you seriously...about to drift with her?”

“I…” Hermann didn't know what to say. The reality of what he almost did set in and he felt his chest tighten. “I was just…”

“Come here, Hermann. Please.” Hermann approached carefully, his heart beating a thousand times a minute. Was this his Newton? Had he finally escaped? Newton held out his arms to Hermann, and he couldn't help but walk right into them. My God, he'd missed this: having Newton's arms around him, this proximity. It made Hermann's head spin. He rifled his hand through Newton's fluffy hair, dry from the cheap hospital shampoo. 

Newton leaned forward as Hermann buried his face in the crook of his neck. “You know...We'd have killed you if you had done it.”

Hermann froze.

“You think you could have withstood Us? We'd have taken your stupid brain and had you jump off the edge of the landing strip. We'd have dashed your head open on the rocks.” Newton whispered into his ear. “And then who would fight for me? They'd lock me away.”

“...are you really so spiteful as to ruin Newton's life just to break me?”

“No. We could care less about you. We want to break _him_.” With that, Newton laid back and fell unconscious again, as if falling into a peaceful sleep. Hermann clutched his chest and backed away, his eyes filling with tears. Had he truly made so little progress? What could he do to stop this?

Could he do anything, after all?

He looked back at Alice, and a vicious idea formed in his mind. A wonderful, terrible idea.

* * *

Hermann watched Newton wake up slowly. He'd had the Rangers put him back in the cell for now, had them shackle him to the chair again. He hated seeing him like this, and he knew it would only get worse, but he kept telling himself it would pay off. He had to keep telling himself this, for if he stopped believing it for a second, he'd turn back.

He'd gotten permission rather easily, which surprised him. The measures, admittedly, sounded extreme. They were extreme, but he supposed the PPDC didn't see it as a major loss. Pentecost and Lambert had passed the request off to the new Marshall, who had signed off on it. It comforted Hermann, at least a bit, to know that Hansen trusted him in this matter.

What scared him more than anything was what awaited him after the fact. What if this plan failed? Where would he go then?

Or let's say it did work: what of the lasting effects? Would this only serve to cause Newton more damage? More trauma? And would he forgive Hermann for that?

“Nngh…” Newton's eyes finally opened sluggishly, brightening with anger when he saw himself back in his restraints. “And here I thought we trusted each other again, Herm.” As he looked up, his eyes widened. “...Why is _she_ here?”

Hermann stood as tall as he could, his cane before him and hands folded over the head. Behind him floated Alice in her tank, thrashing and pulsating, as if she sensed danger.

“I have decided to put an end to this, Newton...one way or another.” Hermann swallowed hard as he watched Newton's face contort with rage.

“No! You can't do that! She--”

“Newton, “she” is a Kaiju brain.” Hermann responded firmly. “She” has no identity. The Hivemind has twisted you around their finger, and now...I'm going to cut the cord.”

“Hermann, no, please….” Newton's face changed suddenly, his eyes wide with fear and sorrow. “You can't, I'll--it’ll kill me, it'll--”

“What? Do you mean to tell me that _now_ you care about dying? After all the taunting you've done about destroying the old Newton? _My_ Newton?” Hermann smirked. “I must admit, I'm looking forward to this. Perhaps it's time your kind learned the meaning of loss.” With that, Hermann turned and, with a full swing of his arms, slammed the head of his cane into Alice's tank. It shattered immediately, punching a hole in the glass, and Newton made a choking noise in his throat.

As the liquid drained from the tank, Newton screamed, tears streaming from his eyes. The veins in his forehead strained and throbbed, and he pulled so vehemently against his restraints that Hermann could see them draw blood around his wrists.

If Hermann didn't know better, he'd thought he heard Alice scream too.

The brain throbbed and quivered as the cold air touched its delicate tissues, and after a few moments, ceased moving entirely. So did Newton; his head dropped against his chest and his fingers twitched. Hermann wasn't sure what to do, so he waited. He waited for a sign, for anything.

Finally, a sob, quiet and plaintive, crept from between Newton's lips.

“H-hermann…” Newton lifted his head slowly, as if it weighed a hundred pounds.

“Newton?” Hermann didn't move to his side quite yet. He remembered the last time he'd done so, and preferred not to repeat that experience.

Newton chuckled, tears still streaming down his cheeks, but said nothing for a long time. The silence pressed down on Hermann's chest; he felt as if he might choke on it.

“They finally shut up, Hermann. They haven't shut up for ten years.” Newton looked up at him, his eyes clear for the first time. His mouth quivered as he spoke. “I can't believe you killed her.”

“You can't?”

“N-no.” He laughed again, louder this time, and this allowed the sobs to rip through him. Hermann watched this transformation, almost numb. After what felt like an eternity, Newton calmed somewhat, enough to speak again. “I can't believe you'd do something so reckless. You didn't...know what the h-hell that'd do.”

“Well, I suppose I learned from the best.” A tear rolled down Hermann's cheek, rolling over his lips and chin before dripping onto his cardigan. He didn't care to wipe it away. “N-newton…”

“Yeah?”

“...is it really you?” Newton grinned, and Hermann knew.

Hermann called the medlab and they took Newton back to his bed. The technicians discarded Alice, her form too traumatized and riddled with glass to even use for study. Hermann watched all this happen quietly, not really feeling much of anything, his mind and his heart so overwhelmed by what he had just witnessed.

As they helped Newton out of the chair and toward the door, he reached out and ghosted his fingers against Hermann's. He brought those fingers to his lips, resolving to remember this moment above all else. It was the only moment in the history of the universe that mattered.

* * *

 

The next day, Hermann contacted the Council and informed them of Newton's status. They demanded their own inquest, of course, refusing to simply take Hermann's word for it. He supposed it made sense. After all, even Hermann worried that he'd been wrong all along, that Newton would revert and Hermann would be left with no other options.

But he didn't. Newton complied with every test. He cracked dark jokes with the technicians. He hummed his favorite power ballads while the nurses took blood, performed brain scans, examined him for any and every potential sign of the possession that had once overtaken him. By some miracle, there were none, save for a tiny echo in his brainwave patterns, like a scar on his mind. Hermann feared how this little blip would manifest itself later, but be allowed those thoughts to pass. He allowed himself to feel relief, and to feel joy.

Everything passed by Hermann like a blur, with Newton anchoring him to his reality. The Council’s investigation came and went, with Hermann tersely answering their questions, typically with some variation of “You have my data. What else could you possibly want from me? Can’t you read?” Liwen eventually returned to Shanghai after giving him a long lecture about how frighteningly foolish he'd been, did he want to die? She had embraced him before stepping on the helicopter, and Hermann realized that as much work as he had left to do, he'd miss her. 

As the Shatterdome inhabitants passed around them on their journey through their lives and duties, Hermann orbited Newton like a binary star reaching for its other half, focusing on caring for him as he recovered.

Hermann said nothing of what happened in the cell, and neither did Newton--not for days. In fact, they said very little to each other at all. In a way, Hermann felt as if he didn’t need to, that he could instinctively feel what Newton felt just by checking his pulse or looking into his eyes. Occasionally, Newton would gift him with a small, vulnerable smile that made Hermann want to weep. The silence between them didn’t disturb Hermann, as it may have ten years ago, when such silences only happened when the two of them had a good 500 feet between them. It comforted him to simply exist in the same space as Newton, to touch him and listen to him breathe and know conclusively that he was there.

Eventually, Mako arrived and the excitement moved away from them and onto her and Jake’s reunion--the homecoming party had lasted a good day and a half, with many of the Shatterdome staff ending up in the medical wing for hangover relief. This pleased Hermann, too. As much as he valued Mako’s presence, having the spotlight removed from his and Newton’s interactions gave him a great deal of satisfaction.

As it happened, he had one more task to accomplish, and he’d rather have privacy for that.

By the end of the week, Newton moved back into his old quarters on Hermann’s recognizance, with a chip placed underneath the skin of his left forearm. The Council had insisted on it, understandably concerned that on his own, he may revert and vanish to continue the Precursors’ work. Hermann still hated it, but as Newton’s watchdog, at least they’d spend time together.

“Wow.” Newton blinked and looked around. “I had forgotten how much shit I left here.”

“Yes, you packed light for China, as I recall.” Hermann stood behind Newton, letting him explore his old haunt freely. Newton ran his hand over a poster of Insurrector, picked up a dusty mug with “#1 Doctor” emblazoned on the side in red letters. He walked a circle around the room with a thoughtful expression on his face, absentmindedly interacting with his former life like a museum exhibit.

“Heh, damn. Here I thought they’d trash the place looking for clues.”

“I told them they wouldn’t find anything. If the Precursors had influenced you then, they--”

“They wouldn’t have let me leave anything like that behind. Yeah.” Newt raised an eyebrow. “Huh. Should I expect more of that?”

Hermann chuckled softly, taking a seat on Newton’s bed. “Perhaps. I Drifted with you several times to try and figure out a way to help you.”

“Yeah, I remember, Hermann.” Newton reached up to take his glasses off before realizing they were no longer there. “I remember….pretty much everything, actually.”

A long silence spread itself across the room. Hermann avoided his gaze, choosing instead to study the shelf of books on the adjacent wall. The silence hung heavy with all the things they needed to say, but couldn’t; all of the apologies and confessions and wishes and fears that threatened to burst the space between them.

“Hermann.” Newton finally spoke, approaching the bed tentatively. He knelt down in front of him, hanging his head and placing his hands on his knees. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. For everything. Jesus fucking Christ, I…” He clenched his fists, shoulders shaking. “I almost killed you, for fuck’s sake. What can I even begin to say to make up for all this?”

“Newton--”

“God, and Mako…” Newton ran his hand through his hair. “I fucked up so bad, Hermann. Jesus.”

“Newton. Please...get off the ground.” Hermann reached down. “Give me your hand.” Newton obeyed, and Hermann pulled him onto the mattress beside him.

“Mako has forgiven you. The Shatterdome will forgive you, in time. And I...have forgiven you, too.”

“You shouldn’t. You oughta make me work for it.”

Hermann shook his head, neglecting to notice that he still held Newton’s hand. “Newton, I know you’ll work for it, but you don’t need to. We’re all just happy you’re alright.”

Newton chewed his bottom lip, his eyes red with tears he hadn’t yet shed. “R-right.” Another silence, this one even longer. Hermann felt the words bubble up behind his teeth, but he clamped his mouth shut. He couldn’t say this now, after Newton had nearly fallen apart in front of him. How selfish that would be, to saddle him with this confession after all he’d been through? No, he’d wait until he’d calmed, until they could really enjoy the moment--

“I love you, Hermann.”

Suddenly, Hermann’s world stood still. His lips parted and he sucked in a breath. “Wh-what?”

“I love you. Didn’t you hear me?” Newton tightened his grip on Hermann’s hand. “You need to get your ears checked?”

“No, I’m sorry, I just…” Hermann began to laugh, pushing his hair back out of his eyes. “I’ve been trying so hard to figure out how to tell you that very same thing.”

“Of course. Drift compatible. If we’d stared at each other long enough, maybe we could have told each other through osmosis. I’d tell you all about why you’re the perfect man for me, and how you’re so fucking beautiful and incredible, but I bet you already know all that, right?” Newton grinned, and Hermann couldn’t stop himself from grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him into a kiss. It started out slow and chaste, but Newton soon clapped his hands on either side of Hermann’s head and crushed their lips together. It felt like everything Hermann had ever known slid into place in that moment.

“Newton…” Hermann breathed against Newton’s lips when they finally pulled apart, panting for breath. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for--”

“Yeah, I do. Drift.”

“Newton, don’t be daft, the Drift doesn’t tell you everything.” Hermann grumbled. “Don’t ruin this moment, please.”

Newton giggled and kissed him again. “Yeah, yeah. Teach me a lesson, why don’t you?” Hermann lifted his hand to Newton’s cheek and caressed it with his thumb.

“You need a shave.” He whispered, as if he wasn’t beautiful like this, with the beginnings of a beard and bloodshot eyes and his hair a mess of flyaways. Newton pressed his forehead against Hermann’s.

“I need more than a shave, Herm. I feel like I could use a lobotomy.” Hermann put a finger to his lips.

“No, no. None of that. You’re doing fine, Newton Geiszler. Just take this a step at a time.”

“You know me, Herm. I like to jump down the staircase.” Hermann simply smiled and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him against his chest.

“Next time you jump, I promise I’ll be right behind you.”


End file.
